All in a Day's Work
by Quia
Summary: AU; Tony Stark has a magical occurrence in his office. Oh, joy.


Pepper was a great gal. There was no denying it—she went above and beyond as PA to one of the most powerful men in the world. CEO of the world's leading energy company, formally a weapons producer, and the richest businessman—at the moment—in America. Tony Stark currently had it all.

However, if there was one thing he could change, it'd be the curios that found their ways onto his desk with a friendly sticky note. Tony Stark had an image to upkeep, and 'collecting' things always gave him an out if he got snagged in the wrong conversation at a party. Nonetheless, these things needed to stop turning up on his desk. Running a tanned hand through unkempt hair, Tony examined the newest addition. He leaned in, tugging the sticky note from its face. 'Hope this works for your next meeting. You'll need it. –PP' Crunch. Popping the crumpled note off the side of the trash can, the genius returned to studying the cup. Chalice. Whatever. It was a dark metal, with some wear dotting its surface, like spots on a leopard. There were lines dancing around in patterns that seemed to never end. The was what looked to be a picture of a snake, a horse, and a wolf chasing each other around the bottom. They all had what may be emeralds for eyes.

Tony extended his hand to rest on the stem, thumb brushing the horse's hooves. Picking up his cell, he let out a breathy complaint. "I wish Pep would stop leaving these things on my desk." He had barely finished the text when there was a hand on his shoulder, lips at his ear.

"Consider it done, Lord Stark. Although, that is a useless wish." The hand danced on his collarbone, sending quakes up his spine and shivers down to his stomach. He felt a smirk form before whoever it was—_how did they get in here_—before the audible steps back. Tony stood up, pushing the chair to the side to get an eyeful of something that most playboys would kill to have. Slick black hair, slightly rumpled but not too long, framing the most pale and angled face he had ever seen. Eyes that would've normally been blue practically glowed with green and it felt frighteningly dangerous to look for too long. If he followed the pale neck down—_he didn't, he was straight_—It lead to a leather vest with gold accent in the right places and a fur collar that only tickled the underside of the man's face. Tony's tongue flicked out to lick his lips.

"How.. How the hell did you get in here?" Not that he minded- no, he did mind. No. Tony really, really minded because the look that was staring him down was illegal in forty-nine states and New York was not one. The man standing in front him shifted, drawing Tony's eyes only further down. Leather pants, no shoes. Okay. Eyes back up, don't stare.

"Imagine, Lord Stark, having the infinity that is magic at your fingertips." With a wave of his hand, he had the chalice resting in his palms. Then, slowly, it was pressed into Tony's hand, and that was way too much eye contact. "And now, it is." The man said, his eyes hooded and his words honeyed. "I am Loki, and I will grant you three wishes. Unfortunately, you've wasted one." Tony gaped, doing the best imitation of the fish down in the lobby aquarium.

"Woah, back it up. You're some biker lookin' guy who popped out of nowhere and offered me three wishes? Don't genies, you know, pop out of magic lamps?" And then Loki's tilting his head, his lips tilted downwards. "Ever watch Aladdin? I'm guessing not." Now he's smiling and Tony feels like a main course.

"You guessed correctly, Lord Stark. I'll have you know, however, that I am no genie or... Typical wish-granting being." Loki circled, his hand trailing the pointed edge of the mahogany desk. Then those eyes are turned upwards, and Tony can almost pick out small lines where they wrinkle up in amusement. "So, do you want to make another wish?"

"No. I mean, hell yeah, but not right now. You're not a genie? What are you? Why am I not panicking and calling the State hospital?" Tony launched off, his eyes tracking the long, delicate fingers that have stopped on his name plate. "How did you know my name?"

"If I am to go in order, I am—was—as you are. I was a sorcerer of times back, and was enchanted to be tethered to that chalice and grant wishes to whosoever picked it up and brushed it. I was not born into this." At this, Tony's eyes turn to his wrists, with aged gold cuffs. He really needed to pay more attention—" The reason you are not panicking is unknown to me, unless you _wish _for me to tell you. I know your name because of the enchantment. It's not quite well for me to be unaware of my master's name."

"Why would someone confine you to a stupid cup?" Tony blurts, because a sorcerer? There were some things that would be far more useful than three wishes. Loki has a feral grin, a bearing of teeth that makes him wonder just how old the sorcerer is.

"It was an enchantress who loved a man I would call my brother on rare occasions. She got too close and he was not interested. It wasn't difficult to ward her from her. However, I was caught unawares and trapped unto this 'cup' until someone saw fit to wish me free." The explanation has Tony's eyebrows at his hairline and he's wondering just how close Loki and that man were. "And what of you, Lord Stark?"

"Tony. Tony is fine. I'm not sure if I'm keen on sharing that, but I am sure I know what I want now." Loki's head does a turn, his hair falling slightly in the motion. "First, I wish we were back in my penthouse." There's a hand grabbing his tie and all he can smell is cedar and fresh snow for a few seconds, before realizing that his eyes were closed. When he opened them, his mouth popped open to an 'o' before transforming to a grin.

"Anything else, Lord—Tony?" Loki asks, his face so perfectly innocent. Then there's the way he's walking, his hips moving barely but just enough for flashes of perfect, white skin. He'd put the best porn start to shame, especially with the constant 'Lord.'

"How about.. Your freedom?" Loki's laugh fills up the room so suddenly that the walls feel too small, like there's no where to go. There's no big bang though, no swirls of magical energy. Just a low pop as the cuffs disappear. Loki turns in a circle, and Tony decides he'll do a rain check on his sexuality. "You want to stay for a drink?"

"I would love to, Lord Tony." Oh, he was doing that on _purpose._


End file.
